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Dennistoun Online: Scottish+Nursery+Songs
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The Wonderfu' Wean.
AIR—” The Campbells are Coming.”


Our wean’s the most wonderfu’ wean e’er I saw,
It would tak’ me a lang summer day to tell a’
His pranks, frae the morning till night shuts his e’e,
When he sleeps like a peerie, ‘tween father and me.
For in his quiet turns, siccan questions he’ll speir:
How the moon can stick up in the sky that’s sae clear?
What gars the wind blaw? and wharfrae comes the rain?
He’s a perfect divert: he’s a wonderfn’ wean!

Or wha was the first body’s father? and wha
Made the very first snaw-shower that ever did fa’?
And wha made the first bird that sang on a tree?
And the water that sooms a’ the ships on the sea?—
But after I’ve tell’t him as weel as I ken,
Again he begins wi’ his “Wha ? “ and his “When?”
And he looks aye sae watchfu’ the while I explain,—
He’s as auld as the hills—he’s an auld-farrant wean.

And folk wha ha’e skill o’ the lumps on the head,
Hint there’s mae ways than toiling o’ winning ane’s bread;
How he’ll be a rich man, and ha’e men to work for him,
Wi’ a kyte like a bailie’s, shug-shugging afore him,
Wi’ a face like the moon, sober, sonsy, and douce,
And a back, for its breadth, like the side o’ a house.
‘Tweel I’m unco ta’en up wi’t, they mak’ a’ sae plain ;—
He’s just a town’s talk—he’s a by-ord’nar wean!

I ne’er can forget sic a laugh as I gat,
When I saw him put on father’s waistcoat and hat;
Then the lang-leggit boots gaed sae far owre his knees,
The tap loops wi’ his fingers he grippit wi’ ease,             [ben,
Then he march’d thro’ the house, he march’d but, he march’d
Sae like mony mae o’ our great little men,
That I leugh clean outright, for I conldna contain,
He was sic a conceit—sic an ancient like wean.

But ’mid a’ his daffin’ sic kindness he shows,
That he’s dear to my heart as the dew to the rose;
And the unclouded hinnie-beam are in his e’e,
Mak’s him every day dearer and dearer to me.
Though fortune be saucy, and dorty, and dour,
And glooms through her fingers, like hills through a shower,
When bodies hae got ae bit bairn o’ their ain,
How he cheers up their hearts,—he’s the wonderfu’ wean.





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